Category Archives: fix

It’s Hard for Me to Say

It’s hard for me to say that I am pretty, even though I’ve been told that I am by people who I trust and love.

It’s hard for me to say that I am a fierce warrior, even though I know my story and know I’ve overcome.

It’s hard for me to say that I am a strong leader, even though the power reflected in my employees would clearly point in that direction.

It’s hard for me to say that I am a good wife, even though my husband constantly reminds me that I am.

It’s hard for me to say that I am a good mother, even though if you met my son’s you would see how awesome they are.

It is also hard for me to say that I am an addict, a liar, a thief, a cheat, a prostitute, a crackhead, a sexually abused child, even though if I am being honest about my past those words are there.

It’s becoming increasingly hard for me to say I’m a Christian, even though my love for Jesus and my faith in God grow substantially with each passing day.

These things, these words, these labels are what society has chosen for me and some of these, I have made for myself.  I cannot deny the hard truth that I almost killed myself and everyone I love with my addiction. I cannot deny it, because it happened and to deny it would mean to deny that I am not only a survivor, I am also redeemed in the eyes of my creator. I am saved, loved, forgiven.

So, although these things may be hard for me to say, I can look you in the eyes today and own these things, all of them, the good and the bad.  I can say that I am a beautiful woman of God, who has sold her body and soul for crack. I can say that I am a good mother who left her child alone or in the care of others to go get high. I can say that I have excelled at the art of marriage, even though I once failed miserably at it.

I am new, and that, is not hard for me to say.


These Servant Hands

2016-04-24 21.35.32

The picture you see here is not of dirty hands.  As a matter of fact, I wash my hands over 50 times a day, most recently with textured soap, the same kind that mechanics use.  Look closely.  Can you see the cracks?  See the stains? See the toil and strain?

I recently became more aware of the way my hands looked.  I went into a nail salon 2 weeks ago in preparation for a huge event that, not only was I attending, but was also sharing my testimony at. When the beautiful young girl picked up my hand to paint my nails she wrinkled her nose & made a comment about how badly I needed a manicure, but that there wasn’t much she could do at that point.

My hands are not dirty, they are stained from processing beets and other colorful fruits at my juice bar.  I try and I try to get them clean and uncracked, but nothing seems to work.  I think I’d have to take 2 weeks off to heal them completely. They are ugly, and gross (looking) and I have become increasingly aware of these facts.

This morning as I got ready for church I noticed them again. UGH…I was a greeter this morning.  It’s something that I take great pride in because I can’t offer much to my church body in the way of money or time, but by golly, I can wish them a helluva fine “Good morning!” But this morning as I got ready, all I could think about was how disgusting my hands looked.

I went into the bathroom, again, to give them one more good scrubbing, to no avail, then headed off to church, where I was sure that everyone who took a bulletin from me would notice.

Greeting went as it always does.  Lots of chit chatting with my greeting partner for the day, hugs and smiles from other church members, comments on hair and dresses and bow ties. Standing in the sunlight of the Spirit both figuratively and literally. Seeing my peeps.  My church family.  Serving them in the best way I know how, with a warm greeting!

As I snuck into church after the opening prayer and took my place next to my dad and my husband, I looked down.  There they were, those old tattered hands.  I had only just then thought of them again!  I had been sure that morning that I would have a hard time focusing on what I was doing because of the state my awful hands were in, but no, I hadn’t thought of them at all.

What a concept!  My service to others; people I love, people I hardly know, my friends, my family, total strangers, had completely taken all the fear, self loathing, embarrassment and inner voices away.  I had been healed, if even briefly by that simple act of selfless service to my fellows.

For the rest of the day I wore these battle scars with pride.  I work hard for these deep cracks and stains.  I love my life, dirty hands and all.  Most importantly, when I was feeling low, it wasn’t self-care that helped, it was helping others that healed.

Awkward Silence


Silence is golden…or so they say.  It can be a coveted luxury for a new mom, the sacred place for a worshiping soul, the blank canvas for a studious learner.  It can also be death for an abused lover, pain for a suffering addict, the dark and lonely place of a mind that feels alone.

Almost 3 years ago I embarked on this sober journey…again.  I was known as a chronic relapser.  Someone who comes in and out of the rooms of Alcoholics Anonymous, staying sober until life looks good, then tearing the whole thing down, only to scratch and claw their way back into AA, repeating the cycle. It is embarrassingly awkward, filled with judgment of people who don’t understand and lonely because clearly, you just can’t “get it.”

I ALWAYS wanted to be sober.  I longed for it to come easy to me.  I saw people, knew people, who had come in, dragged up from the depths of hell, much like myself, and they “got it.” Whatever “it” was, they got it.  I wanted that illusive “IT!”

Lack of desire was not the issue.  If you knew me when I was using, you know that I am not even a shadow of the person I was created to be.  God made me in His image to be loving towards people who are hard to love, kind & generous, creative.  When I am using, it’s as if the candle is blown out.  I can think of nothing more than of myself, justifying my poor behavior as acceptable, greedy & dried up in a desert of shame & pity.

When I washed ashore in September of 2013, in my own version of Nineveh, Victoria, TX, I felt the call to be creative.  I come from a family that fosters creation on one side and encourages hard work on the other, with little time for creativity.  I fell somewhere in between, loving both hard work and writing.  I needed and outlet for the time because I was given the chore of sitting still, being quiet and listening to God.  Not the easiest thing for a girl like me, but I knew my will had been broken, I was going to do whatever I was told to do, so I did.

I began this blog.  You can look back over those posts and see that my journey had just begun, but there was still a powerful story of redemption beginning to surface.  I was awakening, slowly but surely.  I received a phone call on afternoon, from someone I greatly admired who told me that I should put the brakes on this writing thing, that being so “out there” with my early recovery could be detrimental to my case in point.  I heard & listened & shut it down. I also got a comment from a person from my dark past, who did not have my best interest in mind.  These two incidents drove me to this 2 year awkward silence.

Recently, listening to God and not my fear of being “found out,” I started sharing my story.  I was given the green light from my husband to be candid, open, honest…even when it is ugly, about what I went through.  You see, this story is not just mine, it is his too.  He suffered on the other side of my addiction for 2 years, mostly silent, dying in his own way.  So to get his blessing to move forward was all the push I needed.

Here I am.  Back. With an incredible story of redemption, light, love that defied all obstacles, hope.  This isn’t just my story.  It is the story of many women, who sit in silence, wishing they too had an outlet.

Stay tuned.  This is just the first of many posts.  I can’t wait to tell you of all that has happened.  A love story that only God could’ve written. A business that was built in His hands.  A family stitched together with the Almighty thread of peace.  A life you would hardly recognize as the one violently tossed from the belly of the whale.

This story is ours.  Join me. Break the silence.

Beauty for Ashes

I have heard it said many times that God takes the horrible, tragic things in our lives and uses them for good.  A prime example in my life has been the relation and comradery I find in the 12-step program I attend.  Each one of those folks is using their darkest past to carry God’s light to the suffering afflicted in order to help them see that change is possible.  Another great example would be mother’s who put their children up for adoption.  The majority of children who are adopted out are not born into the greatest of circumstances, but their new family is able to provide them with the love they so desperately need.

Neither one of these senerio’s is perfect. Each one is still conducted by and through human beings, and we all know that humans will fail us, but in each one of these dramatic cases there is a common thread of God showing up and showing off.  He loves to take unbearable situations and make them remarkable!

I wanted to share with you a real time experience I had in this arena just yesterday.  It will demonstrate how humans fail, I fail even bigger, God comes in because I open the door and something even more out-standing than I could have ever imagined happens.  He is so Good.

A couple of days ago I called my husband.  A little back story here is that we are currently separated and I worked on utterly destroying our marriage for the last year.  We both have room for improvement, but my actions warrant complete dismissal.  Back to the story at hand.  I called him earlier than he likes to be called and I bugged him about something that I wanted him to do.  Great way to wake up, right…a nagging wife!  When he answered me, his tone was condescending and his manner was short. I immediately went on the defensive and ended the phone call, only to text him moments later.

The text was NOT nice.  It wasn’t wrong in the sense of context but it was accusatory and angry.  I needed to say what I said, but I didn’t do it in a very loving way.  It was a knee-jerk reaction to an uncomfortable situation and I wanted to shake him up.  The text ended with the threat of, “maybe we shouldn’t talk if you can’t change your behaviors.”

And with that, we didn’t talk for 30 long hours.

30 hours may not seem like a very long time, but in marital fight time, especially when 300 miles from each other, it’s an eternity.  I spent the first 5 hours checking my phone every 20 minute or less to see if he responded.  The next few hours were spent in anger contemplating whether I would answer the phone when he did call.  After that I went to bed and cried myself to sleep.  My dreams were awful.  I was hiding from someone and on the run.  I woke up unrested, but with a new resolve to make that day better than the last.

The problem was finding out how to do that.  In the past I would’ve acted out of fear.  I would’ve manipulated, spun my wheels until I got what I wanted, cried, begged, pleaded and degraded my own worth in the process.  Today would be different.

I started off by praying that God help me to focus on the task in front of me.  That each step be clearly marked and that my selfishness be removed so that I could follow through with duty.  I placed more emphasis on God and I let him carry me to work.

One of my jobs is cleaning houses.  During that process I asked God to help me do things differently.  To allow me to make a move I have never made before.  I called someone who God has lead me to as trusted leadership.  I told her about the situation and she spoke some truth about herself and her relationship into my life and I identified with her.  I had been selfish, I had reacted out of fear.  Did he need to stop speaking to me in a disrespectful manner? Yes. But how was my reaction going to transmit us to a place of common ground.  I was humbled by our talk and hung up refreshed.

I called on God again. I asked God to forgive me and to give me guidance on how to rectify the situation.  I waited and I sat still until I felt God move me to call my husband.  What ensued could only be attributed to God.

When we talked a heaviness was lifted.  I expressed my apologizes and insecurities.  I didn’t explain or justify, I simply laid my mistake down before him and asked him what I could do better.  We talked about it and he set some clear boundaries. I did the same.  I expressed my dissatisfaction with the tone he used and we both vowed to get better.  We talked through some of the hardest shortcomings of our 6 year marriage in a little over 30 minutes.  My husband told me that he could only tackle one issue at a time without getting to angry and I followed his lead.

Our conversation ended with the first truly unprovoked, unsolicited, unforced “I love you” we have shard in a very long time.

This is one of many times that I have found that just by letting go of the reigns and relinquishing control to the man upstairs, a dooms-day situation was turned into a beautiful bridge to recovery.

Thank you, God, for allowing me to mess up.  Thank you for loving me when I do and thank you for turning ashes to beauty.  You are an awesome God.


All Things Made New


Happy New Year!!!

What a wild ride 2013 was.  It wasn’t the best year I’ve ever faced, but I was brought to a place of utter dependence on God and that is worth all of the failing and falling that I did and continue to do.

I have a new apprication for the things in my life that came so easily to me.  Shelter, work, transportation, but most valued of all the things I attempted to destroy are the relationships with the people in this world that I truly love and care about.

You would be amazed at the love, consideration and grace that has been shown to me over the last year.  Someitmes I am shocked when certain people will still answer their phones or return text messages.

For a while I was under the impression that I didn’t deserve their love and kindness.  Then one day, it dawned on me, I absolutely didn’t deserve it, but they gave it any way.  They showed me what it was like to have forged true friendship and I am grateful in deeper ways than one could possibly imagine.

In light of all these amazing discoveries and revolutions, I decided that this year, instead of making a list of things that I resolved to “change” or things I would swear off, I made a list of things that I will do more of.  I am of the firm philosophy that if you fill your time with good things then the bad things eventually become obsolete.

This morning when I woke up I set my intentions as such:

Pray way more. Constant communication with my maker causes me to make less of my own decisions and depend more deeply on Him.

Spend more time repairing relationships with family and friends.  I have caused a lot of damage over my life time.  I should have my hands busy with this one.

Treat my body better.  What I put in it and what I do to it. More veggies, more working out.

Write often and with consistency.  Writing is a great passion of mine and I just don’t treat myself to it enough.

There are more, but I won’t bore you with the details.  As you can clearly devise…it’s going to be a year of addition and not subtraction.

2014. Here I come!

This blog is managed and written by Summer Shine aka Victory Chic. The opinions herein are endorsed solely by Summer and are not the opinion of any of the affiliates mentioned…so don’t go getting all crazy with anyone else. Don’t like what’s being said? UNSUBSCRIBE. Love ya!

Love Is Worth The Risk

“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.”

C. L. Lewis

Last night I sat alone in my room contemplating a very risky future move that I am making. I considered all aspects and came to the conclusion that it’s risky, resource consuming and the results are inconclusive to says the least. As a matter of fact, the odds are NOT forever in my favor. If logic was at play here, I would be screwed.

Logic however, is not the deciding factor in this decision. Love is what’s on the table. My heart is what’s at risk. Money will be thrown away and my reputation, what is left of it, will be used against me. I am placing myself in a place of complete vulnerability to the circumstance.

I’ve laid bare my situation, so I’m not afraid to say that I am making a move that may seem careless and illogical. Although it is not careless, it is absolutely illogical and I am more grateful in this moment that I still have the courage to make illogical decisions.

Over the last year I have done everything I can to destroy the blessing of marriage that God has bestowed upon me. I have disassembled the very foundation on which I was given to build on. Brick by brick, layer by layer, I deconstructed every ounce of trust and demolished every crumb of emotion. I reduced my marriage to little more than an obligatory phone call each night, probably more out of pity than much else.

There is more blame and shame to be passed around than what I have time or permission to share, but the fact of the matter is this; I only live out my part of this marriage and I can only own what I have done. I only have time, energy and resources to clean up my mess and I intend on trying to do so.

The relationships that are the most important to me in this life are the ones that I damaged the most. I turned my back on God and quit believing that He could rescue me if I would just let Him. I lied, cheated and stole from my husband and son. My mother and father spent countless nights wondering if I was even alive, not to mention the deciet and neglect. My friends were exposed to my disease and trusted leaders were pushed to the side. I did what I could to harm myself and in the crossfire were these innocent bystanders. Their only crime, loving me.

I run. I am good at that. I run hard and fast and if I can hide, I will. I ran hard and fast to drugs and alcohol. I ran hard and fast to New Orleans. I ran hard and fast to Victoria and into the loving arms of my Father. He kept me here and healed my heart, but He is not done with me. My dependence on Him has increased but is not absolute. My mind focuses on Him, but not completely. I have faith, but it is not unshakeable, but He has brought me to a place of surrender, which is exactly where I belong.

I am going back to face the lions. I am going back to clean up my mess. If I told you that I didn’t have hopes for the future, I would be lieing. What I don’t have are expectations. A girl can dream, but my ambition is to clear away the wreckage of my past as unselfishly as I can pray it to be done.

I want my son to see how I feel. I want him to know that my undieing love for him in greater than any momentary fix. I want my husband to see that I am willing to look him in the eye and see the pain I have caused, feel the distance and experience the cold. I want my mother to see that she is my first choice for holidays even if I am fearful of being hurt. I want my friends to know that their unconditional love has not gone unnoticed and that I can trust the people that God has sent to guide me lovingly.

Sometime in January, when I feel completely released from my work here, I am going back to Waco.

This may seem risky. I assure you, it is. I am walking right back into the damage I have created, but how does a mess get cleaned up if you don’t go back with a broom and some gloves? God has armed me with some artillery. I trust that He is not giving me anything I can’t handle. He is good.

I know that this will not be easy. I know that there will be many tears shed. I know that I risk humiliation, hurt, heartache and discipline. I also know that the love I have been given from above and here one earth is totally worth the risk.

Lord, please guide me. Give me strength. Do not let me grow weary in good works. Show me how to love as you have loved…sacrifically.

Palms up. Minds open. Hearts receiving. Others touched! To live.

This blog is managed and written by Summer Shine aka Victory Chic. The opinions herein are endorsed solely by Summer and are not the opinion of any of the affiliates mentioned…so don’t go getting all crazy with anyone else. Don’t like what’s being said? UNSUBSCRIBE. Love ya!


Just The Beginning

Walking through a cleanse, especially a four fold cleanse, is not always the easiest thing to do. There are areas in our lives we thought were nice and clean and cleanses just tend to expose the muck and the mire. Sometimes on the other end of a cleanse I feel more broken and useless than I did before the cleanse.

Before exposing myself fully, mentally, physically, spiritually and socially, I have usually built up a great tolerance and pattern to my sickness, in whichever area. I have blindly ignored God’s calling or told myself that I am not equipped. I read only fiction, put the crossword down when first stumped or use my calculator for simple math equations. I do just 10 minutes of yoga or walk instead of jog…or worse, just sleep through that alarm. I hang out with people who feel compelled to stay stuck or lay aside any check in my spirit just to keep the peace.

I walk around this life in a rut. Circling the same paths over and over. Digging into habitual sin longer and longer until I no longer see the freshness and pain of being separate from God in that area. I am a master at ignoring red flags and pushing through sticky situations.

Each time I cleanse in the way outlined through the last month different areas are fully disclosed, usually within myself, but sometimes everyone else see’s them too. I am laid bare before God, my friends and family, but most importantly, myself.

But what does one do with this kind of exposure? I have to admit, sometimes I just sweep it under the rug or I justify my old comfortable actions and just keep on trucking. But every now and again I invite the raw, open wound to bleed out and heal.

I seek God’s face regularly. I ask him to show me where I can improve and beg him for mercy though the process, but a lot of times that is just lip service. Do I really want God to work on me? Do I desire to go through that again? Am I really asking him to do His works or am I just saying it to appease everyone around me?

It’s a good thing that God knows our hearts, that he see’s us exactly the way we are and He meets us there. I used to have a friend that would tell me to be careful for what I pray for because I just might get it. I have found that to be so true. I have asked Him to take it easy on me before. The results were clear. He took it easy on me and I styled the same. No changing, not growing, bored to tears.

I open to His loving, stern touch today. He shows mercy when it is needed, like I said, thankful He knows. When I moved to Victoria I laid myself down in front of him and told him to have at it. I wasn’t convinced that he could actually do a damn the with the piece of trash that was naked before him, but I was willing to sit still, be quiet and did those things and the results have amazed me. He is faithful.

I wonder a lot if I even deserve to call Him father. I wonder if He cringes when He see’s me coming. I wonder if that bridge has finally been burned. What I find, and it grows each day, is that He rejoices when I breathe His name. He laughs when He see’s my face and He delights in helping me rebuild burnt out bridges. He is faithful and I am grateful.

Thank you Jesus for the chance to come along side you and celebrate life. even though e cleanse is over for now, it is just the beginning of this newest adventure through life.

Palms up. Minds open. Hearts receiving. Others touched! To live.

This blog is managed and written by Summer Shine aka Victory Chic. The opinions herein are endorsed solely by Summer and are not the opinion of any of the affiliates mentioned…so don’t go getting all crazy with anyone else. Don’t like what’s being said? UNSUBSCRIBE. Love ya!


The Politicians Daughter

My father was a politician. He was also a business owner, salesman, public figure and a man who cared deeply about what others thought of him. He was also an abusive father and husband. These two lifestyles were so contradictory to each other that in order to survive at home my mother and I were forced to adopt a certain mentality that not only made home life easier, but it kept us alive.

Now, I can’t speak for my mother, nor can I attest to her struggles in that home, but I learned at a very young age to manipulate, lie and sell myself in order to make others like me. My fathers public image was so important to him that morality and righteousness we jeopardized at the cost of sanity.

No one was allowed to know how things were behind closed doors in our home and if they somehow caught a glimpse or were told about the indiscrepancies they had a hard time believing it. I remember more than one occasion in which either me or my mother went to the police for help and we were turned away as a troubled child trying to exact revenge or a scorned wife who was just crazy. He had a tight hold on his community and on his reputation.

During my childhood I just accepted my fate and went along with the lies. I didn’t go to the neighbors when my mom screamed out for help, I didn’t tell the counselor at school that my grades were falling because I feared for my life at home, I didn’t even tell my therapist whom I loved and trusted what was really going on. I put on a mask that held back years and years of pain and fear. I wore that mask so long that eventually it cracked and shattered into a thousand tiny little pieces.

I wasn’t trained to fix my problems. I was trained to hide them. When they were fully exposed the best reaction I could come up with was to cover them with drugs, alcohol, food, men…I have a slew of vices to choose from and will gladly fall back on any one of them to mask the issues that are really at hand.

As I’ve gotten older and each one of these masks have utterly failed me, I have learned to recognize them and been forced to face them or cover them once again with yet another self destructive vice that attempts to kill me. My heart breaks, my mask falls, my skin is exposed and I falter OR I run into my fathers arms and cry out to be healed.

The healing process is not a fun one. Scabs are itchy and the skin around them gets red and tight. The scar is embarrassing and explanations are sometimes in order, but every time something is healed, it comes out on the other side stronger.

When gold is found it is black and ugly. It is covered in a layer of burnt looking muck called dross. Under the dross is the soft, fleshy deliciousness that we adorn ourselves in. In order to get to that precious metal the dross must be burned off through a process called refinement. The fire must be hot and the process is tedious. But the reward is a great one and well worth all the trouble.

This is also how God’s refinement works. He’s see’s our weaknesses and desires to make them strong, to use them for His kingdom and to radically rip away the old in order to make us new.

Thank God today for refinement. It’s ugly, it’s messy, it hurts, but the freedom and reward are unparalleled.

As we round the corner of this cleanse find a way to refine the junk in your life and open up pathways for new connections.

Palms up. Minds open. Hearts receiving. Others touched! To live.

This blog is managed and written by Summer Shine aka Victory Chic. The opinions herein are endorsed solely by Summer and are not the opinion of any of the affiliates mentioned…so don’t go getting all crazy with anyone else. Don’t like what’s being said? UNSUBSCRIBE. Love ya!


Hey Shawty, It’s Your Birthday

Today is my birthday. I. Love. Birthdays. They are the one day of the year that is set aside to focus on you. You in all your glory, you born and growing, you, glorious you!!! It is also a day of gratitude and His ultimate Grace.

By all accounts I should NOT have made it to 35. I got sick a couple of times as a baby and to hear my mother tell it, I was close to death on more than one occasion as a baby and she feared the worse. Throughout the years I have given her more than enough reason to, again, fear for my life.

She has picked me up from questionable places, I have been dropped off at her house after being beaten up by my father or having been missing for weeks. She has been there during numerous life threatening trips to the hospital. I am seriously super lucky to be alive. Some Devine power has been carrying me through this life and surely I have some purpose here.

God has been a guiding light through this adventure and He keeps showing off every time I show up. He is an amazing father, a loving friend, my constant companion and the director of my every move…as long as I let him. He is also a stern teacher, a calm storm, a roaring lion. He is all powerful and all encompassing. Ever consuming my heart, whether I like it or not.

You may wonder, “What do you get a girl who has lost everything?” the answer is simple. I have already been given everything that I need. Grace, mercy, love, another day to start another life. When you are reduced to nothing, you sometimes realize that you have everything you need.

Each day we get is a gift in and of itself. Don’t wait for the one day a year that is dedicated to you, celebrate each day as a new lease on life. This is your opportunity to shine, get up and do it.

Happy birthday to me AND to you. You are worthy and loved.

“Awake, O’sleeper, and arise from death, and Christ will SHINE upon you!!!!!!!” – Ephesians 5:14

Today instead of cutting out some of the old contacts, make new ones. Look for opportunity to enhance a new friendship. Smile at everyone you see. Make solid eye contact when speaking to others. Put your phone away during each meal. Use this day to increase His love.

Palms up. Minds open. Hearts receiving. Others touched! To live.

This blog is managed and written by Summer Shine aka Victory Chic. The opinions herein are endorsed solely by Summer and are not the opinion of any of the affiliates mentioned…so don’t go getting all crazy with anyone else. Don’t like what’s being said? UNSUBSCRIBE. Love ya!


The Darkest Days

Most of you know that I am just coming off of a pretty horrendous relapse. This one was worse than the last. Darker than before. Just as promised in the 10 or so treatment facilities I have been in, just as promised in those 12 step fellowships I’ve graced, just like my momma said would happen, my disease was progressive.

The things that happened to me weren’t any worse than the last time I relapsed, the consequences weren’t any different or worse than the last time, the same old things happened that always happened and it looked about like the other times, but the was something about this one. Something inside of myself snapped and spiritually, mentally, emotionally I was in way deeper than I had ever been in the past. It was so bad, as a matter of fact, that I decided that I would never try to get sober again and I was going to try to end my life because I was so tired of trying… again.

I relapsed some time in mid-July after a few months of solid sobriety and I moved down to Victoria to get sober in early September. In that 7 weeks, I tried to OD twice, ended up in the ER a total of 5 times, I wrote 3 suicide letters, sent out 37 suicide text messages and had 2 motel maids sent to my room to check on me. Not to mention the thousands of dollars I spent on drugs and alcohol and purposefully injested more than I knew I could handle.

There were a number of people who were key in my getting to where I am now. Some of them were good friends, some of them were perfect strangers and some of them were people just passing through temporarily. All of them were sent by God to protect my life, even though I did not want to be protected.

At some point, after the number of attempts, I realized that as hard as I was trying, God was NOT letting me die and that really, really pissed me off. Didn’t He see how pointless and destructive my life was going? Couldnt he see that I was never going to find a solution to this problem? Wasn’t he going let me die a good addicts death, why not then?

Now, let me just assure you that the using and drinking, the way I was doing it, was NOT fun. I have passed the stage of drugs and drinking being fun anymore. I am THAT girl. The one who gets too drunk and too high and no one wants to be around me, not even my family. Hell, especially not my family.

I tell you all this to say that Gods idea of how our life looks and our ideas don’t always align. We paint this picture, or we just smash through the canvas, of how we think things would be best for us and God doesn’t always agree. He won’t force us to live in His will, but sometimes His gentle nudgings aren’t so gentle and we can clearly see what is right.

I am at a place in life where I have smashed the canvas so many times that my pretty little picture should be completely ruined, but it is not. Somehow there is still hope. Somehow, I have found a peace and a comfort. Somehow God still see’s value in me and calls me forth to do His biding.

Your life may look dark right now. It may seem like there is no hope. I haven’t much to offer you except this…it is always darkest before the dawn. You don’t have to like what He is offering and you don’t have to like Him and you need is to believe. That one little nugget of Truth may just be what brings you back into a life worth living. It did for me.

For the social cleanse today, check your phone for any unused or unwanted phone numbers. Also, highlight and add lists for those you can reach out to in your ties of need. God isn’t always a burning bush, sometimes He is an answered call.

Palms up. Minds open. Hearts receiving. Others touched! To live.

This blog is managed and written by Summer Shine aka Victory Chic. The opinions herein are endorsed solely by Summer and are not the opinion of any of the affiliates mentioned…so don’t go getting all crazy with anyone else. Don’t like what’s being said? UNSUBSCRIBE. Love ya!